


a maid at your window.

by alighting



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU probably, F/M, valentine's day fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alighting/pseuds/alighting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Valentine’s Day was going to be the day she finally confessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a maid at your window.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! This is a little late, but hey - it's still Valentine's Day here for another half hour, so it counts!
> 
> This draws a lot not only from the DR/SDR2 V-Day tweets, but also from what I know of Peko's FTEs/Dangan Island events. So if you wish to remain mostly ignorant on those, you may want to turn back now!

This Valentine’s Day was going to be the day she finally confessed.

Of course, Peko said that to herself every year, but this year she really meant it. After all, she’d made a lot of progress with Hinata over the past few months, learning how to be a bit more like a human girl and less like a tool. He’d helped her see that she’d been right, in seeking to learn how to smile and comfort in an attempt to support the young master through the difficult challenges awaiting him as the heir – but that these changes were a sign that she shouldn’t attempt to abandon her humanity.

As a tool, she’d only upset him, made him angry and made him cry. As a comrade of sorts, she hopes instead to offer the support that he actually needs – a person with honest faith in him, as opposed to a tool sworn to serve him mindlessly.

Admitting her true feelings for him, however, is little more than selfishness on her part. She can excuse it as much as she wants – she’s just thanking him for everything he’s done, and admitting that she will always care about him and support him – but in the end she’s the only one who will benefit from it. It will likely be awkward for him, to have his longtime servant suddenly confess love, so she can’t really claim to have his best interests in mind.

But part of learning to accept herself as human (for his sake) is to admit and accept her feelings, romantic and otherwise. Getting it off her chest will likely help her to move on as well, or so she hopes, which in the long run will make it easier to support him from the sidelines.

She reminds herself of all of these reasons throughout the day, as if to prevent herself from giving up (as always). The making of the chocolate is the easiest part, because it’s what she _does_ manage on a yearly basis; practiced hands make it easy to make chocolates that actually will look decent. Lovers’ chocolates that might actually have a chance of being accepted, assuming the recipient shares the same interest.

Once she’s happy with the chocolates and has them neatly packaged in a box, that’s when the panic starts to set in. The doubts creep in: _it would be inappropriate to be so presumptuous, he wouldn’t appreciate being given sweets when he tries so hard to hide his sweet tooth, he probably already has chocolates from girls he’s more interested in._

Every other year, it’s not long after this point that her carefully-made chocolates wind up in the trash.

It’s only by focusing on Hinata’s encouragement – _you should go for it, Pekoyama, if he means that much to you_ —that she manages to push the doubts away for long enough to make it to the young master’s door. It’s been left open, but he’s focusing on something-or-another and doesn’t seem to see her. All she has to do is announce her presence – knock on the wall, call his name, _anything_ – and there will be no turning back.

Before she can think better of it, she raps her knuckles against the wall, before pulling them back in and holding her breath, as if that will prevent the sound from being heard.

It doesn’t, of course. He looks up. When he notices her there, she has to fight back the instinct to falter, to change her mind. She’d never gotten this far before, but even now the words stick in her throat. Telling Hinata that she was ready was one thing, but actually admitting her feelings is a whole different story.

He’s used to her awkwardness, though, so while she tries to gather up her courage he focuses on the box in her hands.

“What’s that?”

_Now or never._

“I—I’d like you to have this, young master, as a gift of…thanks. For all you have done. You…you are very important to me, and I….wanted to express that.”

Her cheeks are burning, and she can’t meet his eyes.

“It…it does not matter to me, that you are unable to reciprocate. I simply…wanted you to know that there is someone who will…support you, no matter what.”

She holds out the chocolates, as an offering. It’s an awkward few moments, where she blindly holds them out and waits for him to grab them (she tries not to be disappointed when he doesn’t, even accepting her feelings is against all they’ve been taught), and she realizes that Hinata didn’t teach her what to do when your confession doesn’t work.

Awkwardly, eyes still focused on the ground, she pulls the chocolates back to her chest…only to see a hand follow after them out of the corner of her eye. It’s hesitant, but _there_ – and when she finally (finally) gets the courage to look up at his face she can see that he’s blushing about as hard as she is. But he’s focused on the gift, not angry, and when she presses it into his hand he takes it.

She’s really not sure what to do after that, either – does she stay and watch him open it, or does she leave him to it? Indecision chooses the former, roots her to her place as he opens the box and sees her carefully-made chocolates. He must know, by now, that they’re meant to symbolize a confession of love and not simply one of friendship, but he says nothing.

He looks at her – and at this point she’s ready to apologize, no matter what she’s told herself about using this moment to admit her feelings and then let them go – and, still blushing profusely, picks up one of the chocolates and pops it into his mouth.

It’s silent as he chews, as she doesn’t know what to say to that, so the silence isn’t broken until he’s finished.

“Don’t….don’t go telling anyone that I like sweets or shit like that, got it? Last thing I need is people fucking thinking that I’m soft.”

“Your secret is safe with me, young master.”

“And shit, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? If….if I’m accepting your chocolates,” he looks away, the ever-present blush in full bloom, “or whatever, you should at least call me by my goddamned name.”

Accepting…? In all her imaginations of how her confession would turn out, she’d never let herself believe that he would accept her feelings so easily.

But….but maybe (just maybe, if she lets herself hope) it’s because the confession isn’t as unwanted as she thought. Maybe, he’s blushing because he feels the same way – he just can’t admit it.

It’s a long shot. But until White Day comes along, she supposes all she can do is hope for the best.


End file.
